The Last-Ditch Wintertime Journey
by hackneyed words
Summary: With both of their lives on the line, Ellie convinces David to bring her to the Fireflies. The road is long and the certainties are few.


Snowflakes melted on the young girl's flushed face. She was recovering from the altercation in the now burning restaurant. Fire crackled and spit as black smoke billowed out of the many broken windows. Gripping onto the side of the building she wriggled her legs out of the deep snow. It was difficult for her to catch her breath; every inhale stung from the frigid air. After a few hacking coughs, she rubbed her bloodshot eyes. A silhouette within the blizzard grew closer.

"Don't run," David yelled, his voice carrying poorly through the storm. "I'll shoot!"

She didn't listen. He shot a round that flew past her right ear and caused her to face-plant.

"Why are you so difficult, Ellie?" he cocked his revolver.

She grit her teeth and turned to face him. "Fuck you!"

He frowned. "Not my choice of last words, but to each their own."

"Wait!" Ellie cried. "You don't want to kill me!"

Lightly touching the stab wound on his shoulder inflicted by the feisty teen, he decided to humour her. He grabbed her by the hood of her jacket and pressed the gun to her head.

"Give me a reason you fucking brat," he spat.

She breathed in deeply. "The Fireflies want me because I haven't turned yet. It's been months. I'm immune, I've inhaled spores and I'm still here."

David loosened slightly as his thoughts focused on the bite she had given him earlier.

"You're infected," she choked out, "but if you bring me to them—the Fireflies—they can find a cure."

He lowered the gun. She remained still, but glanced up at him. "You can kill me… but you'd be throwing away your only chance of survival."

He let go of her. "If you hadn't bit me, you'd be in pieces right now."

She sighed with relief, but her heart leapt as he slapped a handcuff onto her left wrist. Having the brute strength between the two, he captured her other wrist as easily as the first despite her struggling and expletives. He led her into the nearby house to gather supplies.

"I'm only going to lead you to the Fireflies on one condition," she spoke casually as he rummaged through a first-aid kit.

He scoffed, "That's cute." Hastily wrapping gauze around his wound, he continued, "Little Ellie thinks she's in control."

"Fuck you man, you're dead if I don't lead the way!"

"Yeah, that's nice, keep at it. Remember you're in chains. You'd better hope I don't turn on the way there." He buttoned-up his jean jacket and threw his backpack over his shoulder, wincing.

Ellie became silent. She had wanted to return to where she was keeping Joel. A sense of loss throbbed in her chest, but the feeling was familiar enough to ignore. _He'll be alright,_ she thought. _I'm sure the medicine worked. He'll be okay. _David held the door open and motioned for her to move. The blizzard was still fierce. She kept her eyes almost entirely shut as she led her captor out of the camp.

§

"Goddamn it!" David howled. "You fucking bitch!"

His long and loud morning yawn had woken Ellie up and by instinct, she antagonized him through a series of kicks to the groin. _I should stomp your fucking balls, _she recalled, thinking of Riley. As David collected himself, cursing her name, she darted to the exit. Awkwardly, she turned her back to the door and scrambled to turn the knob with her hands bound. He reached her before she could and returned her favour.

She crumpled into a ball at his feet. "Oh fuck."

He continued to kick her until she began to sob. Incredibly angered, he straightened out his jacket and knelt down beside her, pulling her ponytail back to force her to look at him.

"No more fucking around!" He yelled, mere inches from her face. "No more!"

He let go and walked off to another part of the house that they were temporarily using as a rest-stop. _Jeez, what happened to the creepy, overly nice touchy-feely schtick? _she mused, rolling over to stare at the ceiling. She grimaced as she realized his attitude towards her likely changed after she killed several of his men. The empathy she felt for him was short-lived as she focused on her bruised ribs and the painfully empty feeling in her stomach.

"Hey," she called out, "I know you hate me, but I'm really hungry!"

No answer.

"Come on…"

She could hear him sigh from the kitchen. "You're welcome to the rest of my slop."

He came to her side, shoved a plate of rehydrated beef stroganoff next to her and left. At first she was annoyed he had left without spoon-feeding her, but quickly shook the horrible image out of her mind. She accepted the indignity and stuck her face into the plate and ate like a dog.


End file.
